by Magan Vernon
“Yep. Got busted out in time for Dad’s big night.” I forced a smile.
“Not much of a big night with the way the polls are looking,” Trey muttered.
I cocked an eyebrow. Usually I would have been stalking those things just as fiercely as the rest of the family, but we weren’t allowed to watch the news or have our phones in rehab so I was pretty much out of the loop on everything.
“Well, us Chapmans always know how to get back up when we’ve been knocked down, so hopefully by the end of the night we’ll be calling Dad Mr. President.” I patted Trey’s back as reassuringly as I could.
I wasn’t exactly the best guy to comfort someone and being sober at one of these political events was making me see them in a totally different way.
I was used to the heat of everyone’s eyes on me. The Chapmans had been thrust into the spotlight practically since birth. Dad and Mom came from prominent families and were basically groomed to be politicians. But the heated stares of everyone in the room weren’t because I was a Chapman, but because I was the family fuck up. The farther I followed Trey into the crowd, the louder the whispers got and the hotter the stares.
“Tripp! Good to see you!”
I turned to see Trey’s girlfriend, er, I guess fiancée. The last time I’d seen the fiery red-head she was petite and now it looked like she smuggled a loaf of bread underneath her dress. The pregnant liberal chick was the only thing that overshadowed my bender.
“Hey, good to see you too, Monica.” I leaned in and went in for the reluctant hug.
“If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d be half-tempted to ask what you were carrying and offer some to your brother,” she whispered in my ear before letting go and winking.
I smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Is my little brother kind of high strung tonight?”
Monica smiled. “Isn’t he always?”
I put my arm around Trey, trying to force the biggest smile I could. “It’s fine little brother. We’re Chapmans. We can make it through anything.”
“Yeah, tell that to Trigg. I don’t think the guy has come out of the bathroom half the night and with you MIA, it’s been up to me to schmooze all of these people.” Trey raked his fingers through his hair for what had to have been the millionth time.
I patted his shoulder. “I’ll go give Trigg a little pep talk.”
Trey raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
I shrugged. “Who better to talk to him than the black sheep?”
Trey opened his mouth to say something but before he could, some random politician in a suit tapped on his shoulder, bringing him into what was probably a boring as hell conversation that I was glad to escape from.
We’d gone as a family to Navy Pier a few times when I was younger. I remember thinking it was nothing but a tourist trap with a Ferris wheel and some chintzy little booths and restaurants. The only good thing about the place was the IMAX theatre where I spent way too much time tripping and seeing movies.
I still hadn’t seen Mom or Dad. I figured finding Trigg and seeing what the hell he was moping about would take priority. At least it was better than wondering what the hell kind of talk I’d get from Dad.
Quickly, I breezed past a group of men in suits with their blonde wives hanging on their arms and made my way to one of the bathrooms.
Surprisingly, the bathroom was empty except for a pair of very expensive loafers that tapped on the floor in the handicap stall.
I leaned up against the door. “If you’ve got anything good in there, you better share with your brother fresh out of rehab.”
A groan came from the other side of the door. “I’m not doing drugs, Tripp. I just need a minute, okay?”
Pressing my back against the door I smirked, letting out a breath through my nose. “Yeah, well, Trey said you’ve been in here awhile and him and Monica sent me to check on you. They probably just wanted to get rid of me, but I didn’t mind getting a breather either.”
“Look, Tripp, I’m glad you’re out of rehab and all, but I just need some time. Okay?”
I pushed off the door. “All right. All right. I get it. Nobody knows better than me that you just sometimes need some space. Guess I’ll go find Dad and get my usual tongue lashing or maybe I’ll run into Roni. Did her and Bella come in from Boston too?”
Trigg let out the deepest sigh I’d ever heard. It was almost comical. “Veronica and Bella are with her parents. She said she’d get on stage to smile and wave but otherwise didn’t want to be around me. She left me and took Bella with her.”
My eyes felt like they were literally going to pop out of my head and the air left my lungs. Shit. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I watched in the reflection of the mirror as Trigg slowly opened the door, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. They were blood shot, his sandy brown hair a tussled mop on his head. Instead of his usual five o’clock shadow, he was sporting a full-on beard that was almost lumberjack-like. Dude was a mess. “It happened about a month ago. She said she was sick of me working all the time and dealing with election shit and she just couldn’t take it anymore. She took Bella and went to her mom’s and I haven’t talked to her since. I told her not to talk to the media and at least that didn’t get out.”
Trigg laughed, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t want another family fuck up in Dad’s election. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? That we all look pretty for the cameras?”
I raised an eyebrow. This sounded more like my rhetoric instead of my level-headed older brother. He was the one with the high school sweetheart, steady six-figure job almost right out of college, and all his shit together.
“You’re sounding too much like me and usually I would think that’s a good thing, but if there are three Chapman boys going off the deep end, the captain might go down with the ship, if you get what I’m saying.” I thought it sounded good in my head at least.
“Have you seen the polls? Dad’s so far down there’s no way in hell he’s going to come back.”
I shook my head, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Sorry, man, didn’t get much for news in rehab. I haven’t checked shit since I’ve been out. Just grabbed some grub and came here.”
Trigg smiled, a genuine smile that showed his teeth. “Some business analyst for the campaign you are.”
I lifted my hands. “Hey, I had to take a leave of absence and no one ever actually said I was formally hired for the job. Dad just didn’t know what to do with his fuck up son with the MBA and had to find me a job that didn’t drug test.”
“And what would we do without Daddy Dearest?” Trigg smirked.
“Probably have a lot less counseling expenses.” I put my arm around Trigg and walked with him out of the bathroom.
***
Once the night was over and Dad delivered his concession speech, I was lost in the shuffle. All of us had to stand next to him on the stage like we were some sort of united front but that was definitely a big fucking lie.
Dad had barely looked my way the entire night. It was like he was doing everything he could to avoid it. Was it my fault that he lost the election? Or Trey’s for knocking up his girlfriend?
I should know. I was the business analyst that had to work on the social media aspects of the campaign. Nothing like waking up in the morning to one of the top searches on the internet being “Chapman brothers’ dicks”.
Maybe that was what started my downfall. Maybe it was the moment I came home from college with my first tattoo and Dad threw a shit fit that I was ruining him. If he only knew that was the least of my demons at the time. I was tired of always trying to live the perfect life that the family laid out. Trying to be the most outstanding citizen and a role model for everyone.
I sound like a big fucking whiner but it’s a lot of pressure to have all eyes on you and every little fuck up just turns into a bigger mountain until you can’t breathe. You’re suffocating.
I was ready to get into a cab and get home. Back to the bed I hadn
’t been in for so long and pass the fuck out. It was an emotionally draining day and I just wanted it to be over.
Before I could step foot on the curb I felt a hand on my shoulder. I expected it to be Trey or Trigg, asking to share a cab but instead I locked eyes with the intense gaze of my father.
Trying not to wince, I forced a smile. “Hey, Dad.”
“William, can I have a word with you?” He raised his meticulously shaped eyebrows.
I swallowed hard before nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Great.” He smiled and put his arm around me, ushering me off to the side closest to the building. There were a few armed guards in suits near us, but no one else. No one within earshot for the verbal beat down that was about to go down.
“You’re looking good, son. It looks like rehab may have stuck this time,” Dad said.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I noticed you were a little late tonight, I hope that wasn’t because of a relapse.”
I shook my head. “Naw. I just stopped for a bite to eat. I needed some real food instead of canapés.”
Dad smirked. “Yeah. I guess I can’t blame you for wanting some real food.”
He opened his mouth and then shut it again, shaking his head as if the words were too much even to speak. I didn’t know what I should have said in that moment or what he wanted to say, so I just smiled and patted his back.
“Well, I better get going, Dad. It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “It has.”
I turned to go back toward the curb when his words stopped me.
“I’ll see you at family breakfast tomorrow?”
I swallowed hard. Shit. Family breakfast was the last place I wanted to be. That’s where we would all have to deal with the aftermath of this election.
“Yeah. I’ll be there,” I said.
Dad nodded. “Good, Trey and Monica have volunteered to pick you up. See you at eight.”
Great, getting picked up by the golden boy and his pregnant lady. We would be quite the trio.
Chapter 3
I lived in a studio apartment because I didn’t cook or clean. The only people that ever came over were women who wanted to fuck then leave. That’s how I wanted it. I didn’t need overnight guests or people wanting to come hang out.
But, tonight, going back to my empty apartment had never been lonelier.
It was exactly how I left it the night before I went out with some buddies and ended up with my car wrapped around a tree.
The room was narrow, “bowling alley style” as they called it.
I would have actually preferred the old futon from my fraternity house, but that thing was far past busted and I don’t think would have made the trip from New Hampshire.
Taking off my suit coat, I dropped it on the metal coat rack near the door then took off my tie and threw it on the granite island. The small kitchen was never actually used for food, just a lot of booze in the fridge. When I finished my MBA, I knew I wanted to live somewhere in Lincoln Park and wanted a studio. I picked the first place I looked at then let Mom have at it with her decorating.
I would have scoured the fridge for something hard to drink but I knew that the place was probably swept for everything and I’d only find some of Dad’s favorite, way too expensive bottled water. So, instead, I stripped down my shirt, throwing it on the gray love seat.
Mom purchased two love seats that faced each other with a small, coffee table in between. She said it brought out the color in the fireplace it was in front of. I just knew that I used one for fucking and one for sitting. Neither one were real comfortable and my bed was only a few feet away, which made it easy to pass out.
I didn’t even bother putting my clothes in the hamper or turning on the TV for some background noise. I just threw off my shoes and let my head hit the feather pillows. If I couldn’t put myself in a coma with booze or pills then I guess exhaustion would have to do.
***
The knocking at my door came way too earlier. Breakfast was supposed to be at eight so why the hell was someone knocking at six?
“Tripp! Tripp!”
Fucking Trey.
I slowly got up and didn’t bother putting on a shirt or pants. I opened the door to see my little brother, fully clothed and holding two Styrofoam coffee cups.
“Morning, big brother,” Trey said, handing me a cup and inviting himself into my apartment.
I shut the door behind him. “Yeah, wasn’t expecting you for awhile.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “I just wanted to make sure you were up and going.”
I shook my head, setting the cup down on the counter. “You mean you wanted to make sure I was still alive?”
He nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. The kid always dressed like fucking politician in his dress pants and button down shirts. “Yes. I was in the neighborhood, getting some coffee. Thought I would just check in.”
I smirked. “I’m not dead, Trey. I didn’t call my dealer up. I’m clean.” I put my hands out. “Promise.”
He nodded. “Good, then you should probably shower and put on some pants before we go get Monica. I don’t think she’d appreciate seeing you in all your tattooed, half-naked glory.”
I ran my hand down my chest to where my tattoo ended just above my boxers. The Tree of Life was my largest piece that stretched across my chest and all the way down my stomach. It was also my very first tattoo and spending that much time in a chair will give a guy a lot of time to think.
It was nice to have some serenity with nothing else but the humming of the tattoo gun. I became addicted to the sound. The lull. The pain that was brought on with each new piece. It made me feel alive for the first time.
At least it was better than my other addictions.
“Hey, your future wifey has a piece that’s almost as big as mine. I’ve also seen the hole where her eyebrow ring was. I know she’s a bad girl.” I smirked.
Trey shook his head. “She’s not your type.”
I laughed. “I’m sure she could be. I think she has it in for the Chapman charm.”
“Go ahead and try and see where your balls end up.”
I smiled. I liked it when the guy actually gave in and showed that he was human and didn’t always have a stick up his ass. “Okay. Okay. You made your point. I’ll just hop in the shower and get ready, then we can go pick up my future mistress.”
“Whatever gets you outside of this apartment, I’m okay with, but keep calling her your future mistress and you may not make it out alive.”
I laughed. “Okay. I’ll stop with the jokes about your old lady...for now.”
***
With my license suspended for the DUI, it meant that I had to rely on Trey to drive me around if I needed a ride. That or cab it. It wasn’t too hard to do in the city and I was actually lucky that all I got was a suspended license and time served in rehab instead of jail. I guess being a governor’s kid has some perks.
When we picked up Monica, the girl was actually smiling. I hardly ever saw her smile unless it was forced. It looked good on her. Not that I really did have a thing for my brother’s girlfriend, but there was something about her that I couldn’t help but like.
I sat in the backseat of Trey’s Range Rover, staring out the back window. Why he needed a Range Rover was beyond me. Dad gave it to him as a graduation gift or some shit. I guess the Mustang wasn’t good enough for a college graduate and with the family growing, he probably needed something bigger.
“Where’s your head at back there, Tripp?”
I looked up to meet Monica’s eyes in the rearview mirror. The girl seemed to get me. She seemed to understand the struggle with being in the Chapman family. She was still an outsider, but now the girl was definitely more inside than me. Dad probably even removed my seat at the table so she could sit there.
“Nowhere special. Just seeing if I can spot someone else to take me home instead of riding in the backseat of this beh
emoth,” I said and looked back out the window.
She smiled slightly, but it wasn’t a real one this time. “I’m sure someone would pick you up, but I’d miss you too much.”
Trey glanced at me in the rearview mirror and I winked at him. “Told you Monica wanted me.”
He just shook his head and Monica took his hand and squeezed it. “You know I like political boys.”
There was something about Monica that always felt like she was hiding something. Like a past life. I knew there was some early shit that the media brought up when she and Trey started dating but I knew that wasn’t it. I didn’t want to pry and ask what the girl was hiding, but it always made me feel like we had more in common somehow.
My parents' house was in one of the affluent suburbs of Chicago. I’d grown up my whole life with a gated entrance to our house and maids. I’d never seen real hardship. Ever. I had a trust fund and everything handed to me.
Pills. Booze. Those helped for awhile, but I’d been on so many different ones that I was a walking pharmacy. They even sent me home from rehab with one of those old people pill cases so I could plan out my pills for the week.
But pills didn’t help with everything. There were some things that I didn’t know if I would ever solve. I didn’t understand why there were some days that I never wanted to get out of bed and be a productive member of society. The days that all I wanted to do was fade into oblivion.
Unfortunately, being back home in Chicago made things even worse and now I had to face my dad after he just lost the most important election of his life and it was possibly all my fault. Trey may have knocked up his girlfriend, but I didn’t know which the lesser evil was: drugs or sex.
Trey put in the code at the gate and the wrought iron doors swung open as he drove down the cobblestone path.
The large white house with its big columns and black shutters was like the calling card home for rich white men of the suburbs. Trigg had one that was almost an exact replica in Boston and I was sure that Trey and Monica would be house hunting soon and getting out of their condo.
